Change Is Good
by DragonSpiritX
Summary: Bluestreak has lived through being a sex slave his whole life but when a certain cop bot finds him and helps him get a new lease on life, does he end up falling for the mech and can said mech help him through his past horrors? story is better...trust me.
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: Story that came to me while watchung a lot of slave trade documentaries...I swear how sick and twisted some people are these days. Anyways, Enjoy!_**

**_--_**

Further downtown of one of the few Neutral cities of Cybertron reveal nothing but a rundown, trashed area filled with old worn out buildings, thousands of homeless bots sleeping in the streets, and thieves and thugs lurking in every shadowed corner. It's definitely not a place one would vacation let alone live in. But with the war going on for the past millions of years, the city's current residents had less of a choice. This was their home, whether they themselves liked it or not…

Currently, the streets were quite and moderately empty, except for a few passing motorists and one lone suspicious looking bot…

A medium build mech walking down the street found himself stopped by a young silver and red mech, bright blue optics staring into his own green ones.

"Sir," the bot started with a sultry grin, letting his hands rub up and down the blue mechs chest. "How would you like to have a little fun?" he continued with a wink and a small swish of the hips.

The blue mech grunted, unimpressed. He cocked a optic ridge at the younger mech and shrugged. "How much?"

The silver mech smirked, letting his thin arms slither around the other mech's neck and pulling him down face to face. The blue mech had to admit though…the mech was kinda cute.

"It's 20 credits for oral, 50 for a quickie, and 150 for an all nighter plus a lap dance…" the mech breathed, causing the older to shudder. The mech pulled away slightly and reached into a compartment in his arm and took out a few credits. He then handed them to the mech.

"Here's 150..."

The silver and red mech smirked, counting the money for himself to make sure it was all there. When he was done, he subspaced it and snatched the other bot's hand in his own. "Lead the way, hot stuff…"

And with that they were off…

--

A slam on the table caused the silver and red mech to jump. He cowered as the larger mech in front of him panted in anger.

"This is it?!" he roared, throwing the credits he had in his hand in the other bot's faceplate causing him to whimper. "Out of all the slagging mechs you could've gotten and the credits you could've came back with, all you give me is 700 fraggin' credits?!" The mech then threw the desk to the side, causing it to collide with the nearby wall and shatter to pieces. He then crossed the width between him and the younger, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him to the floor. The young mech whimpered in pain, receiving a harsh punch to the faceplates.

"Shut up!" the mech above him yelled, punching him once more and drawing some Energon. He reached down and grabbed the younger mech by the doorwings, holstered him up and swung him to the other side of the room. The mech landed with a sickening crunch, pain flaring through his backstrut, indicating his doorwings were crushed. He desperately tried to get back to his pedes, only for a large foot to come crashing down on his back and pinning him to the cold, steel floor.

The black mech leaned down and sneered menacingly. "Where's the rest of the money, you little whore? Huh?!" he grabbed one wing and ripped it ruthlessly out of the other mech. The silver mech arched his back and screeched in pain, quickly shutting up when the mech grabbed the other wing and began slow pulling on it.

"Please, Master, please don't…" the silver mech pleaded, looking up at narrowed gold optics. Another slap to the faceplates. The younger mech then gasped when the other pulled out a blaster and shoved it against his helm. He whimpered quietly as he felt it power up.

"You talk when I say you can talk…Ya hear, bitch?!" he roared, smacking the mech with the barrel of the blaster and sending him sprawling across the floor. He stood up at full length as he watch the pathetic sight of his slave struggling to get to his feet. He growled quietly, kicking the mech in the torso and onto his back, shoving his blaster in his mouth. He began pulling back the trigger. Another inch and the silver and red mech's whole head would be blown off…

"You are going to get your fraggin' aft back out there, earn some money, and come back with it ALL like a good little bitch…"he shoved the blaster harder into the slave's mouth causing the poor thing to gagged. "Ya got that, ya little piece of slag?!"

The young mech whimpered with wide optics and nodded wildly, causing his 'superior' to grin in satisfaction. The larger mech then grabbed his slave by the neck, dragged him to the door and flung him out.

"Then get to work!" with that the door slammed and locked closed, leaving the mech in the dirty, damp alleyway. He hugged himself closely as he got to his pedes and ran off in tears.

'Why did this have to happen to me?!' he thought as he finally collapsed a good ways away from his so called 'slave master'. 'I have to escape…I just have to…But how?" the young mech shook his head before sighing, wiping away the tears and puffing up his chest. He then heard loud music playing and walked toward the noise until he was met by a large building…a club.

'That should earn me some credits…' he thought as he sighed sadly and walked on in.

--

"Explain to me why we are here again…" the black and white mech looked at his equally colored companion with an annoyed expression. He then looked up to see the bright neon sign of the cities local club shining above them reading, 'CLUB FREAKY'. strange, yet appropriate. His comrade turned to him with a grin.

"Aww, c'mon, Prowler! Lighten up!" the visored mech laughed, patting the other on the back. "Sides' we're on a mission…"

"My name is Prowl, Jazz…" the mech growled. "Not Prowler, not Prowlie, just Prowl."

The other mech chuckled lightly and put his hands up in a fake defense. "Ok, ok, I got it…" Prowl rolled his optics, pushing past his friend and entering the club. He cringed as he was met by blasting loud music and blinding bright lights flashing all over the place. The club was packed with mechs and femmes alike, dancing and drinking like there was no tomorrow. Jazz grinned as he stepped into the club, immediately dancing down to the dance floor and shaking it with a femme that happened to be in his way. Prowl groaned in annoyance. They had a job to do and his best friend was over there livin' la vida loca while he was stuck with everything! Perfect…just perfect.

Blue optics scanned over the lively place as he replayed his assignment in his head. There were suspected Decepticons in this area, recruiting neutrals into their team by the barrel full. Whether they were willing or completely reprogrammed to obey the Decepticons and their lord, Megatron. Prowl shuddered. Just the thought of that sick, sadistic bastard sent his tanks ready to purge. And to think the slagger was in any shape or form related to Prime…

He then sighed and offlined his optics for a moment. Not the time to get off topic. Just look around, check for Cons, stop their plans if needed and leave. A loud 'WHHOO HOO!' directed his attention back to the dance floor to see his comrade in arms dancing his whole spark out with a crowd surrounding him and cheering him on. Prowl stared in anger. How Jazz and he became best friends was beyond him.

'Also not the time to think about that…I have more important things to worry about…' he thought to himself as he began maneuvering himself through all the clubbers and finally resting on a chair in front of the bar table. The bar tender asked him if he wanted anything but he just waved the mech off. No way in the Pits was he going to get a drink in here so somebody could spike it. He sighed and buried his head in his hands. He was already getting a processor ache from the heavy music and noise all around him.

"Umm…Excuse me…" the black and white mech jumped in surprise, looking up as his blue optics locked with baby blue optics. The mech next to him smiled sheepishly. "Sorry to startle you…"

Prowl coughed uncomfortably, breaking optic contact with the other, admittedly attractive, mech. "Don't be sorry, I just wasn't expecting you…"

The other mech giggled, making the cop bot blush at the cute yet sultry voice. He then gasped when he felt a pair of hands trail over his doorwings. He moved backwards and looked at the smirking mech in shock. What was he doing?!

The other mech then leaned forward, pinning Prowl his seat as he placed an arm at each side of him. He then leaned forward so his lips were brushing against the officer's. "Think you could show this mech a good time, Big Bot?"

Prowl stared at the mech in shock before giving him a hard look and pushing the other away, much to the silver mech's shock. "I'm not that kind of mech." he said firmly.

"Aww, c'mon…Let go just once…" the silver and red mech said somewhat nervously as he tried to press his lips against the other in an attempt at a kiss. Prowl growled and successfully pushed the mech away and stood up at full height as he glowered down at the other. It was then he noticed something. The mech before him was very young…Most likely too young to be eligible to get into this club. He had a sense of innocence in his optics.

The officer also notice the numerous scratches, dents and dried up Energon adorning the young mechs frame. Also one of his wings were torn off completely while the other was barely hanging on by a few wires. He was recently beaten…but by who? Before he could question said mech, he found the younger was running through the groups of mechs and femmes.

"Wait!" he called, running after the mech. He didn't know what compelled him to follow the other. It could be his training that led him to want to help a fellow Transformer but for some reason when he saw the younger mech it felt somewhat deeper like…His spark stopped when he noticed three large bots following the young mech's path, looking royally pissed.

'Are they after him?' Prowl asked himself, as he leaned upward to try to see where the mechs were going of the see of bots. He growled as he continued his pursuit and opened his com link.

/Jazz! Jazz, this is Prowl! Respond!/

The comlink crackled on the other end momentarily before Prowl heard his friend respond.

/This is Jazz, Prowl! What's going on?!/

/I'm in pursuit of a few suspicious mechs and am in need of your assistance!/ Prowl answered, sending his on going coordinates.

/I'm on my way! Jazz out!/ With that the link was cut and Prowl began moving faster, trying desperately not to lose sight of the younger mech which was obviously being hunted by the large bots.

'Hold on, kid…'

--

**_A/N: What do you think? Read and Review please! And please people, if u r gonna alert this or fav this or things of that nature, please leave a NICE NO-FLAMES review! please and thank u!_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Here's chapter 2...Enjoy!_**

--

The silver and red mech panted, pushing and throwing all the bots that were in his path to escape; caring less of the surrounding mechs and femmes growling and yelping at the minor assault. He looked back to see his Master and two of his guards hot at his heels. He whimpered and cursed himself quietly. His whole plan was ruined in a matter of seconds.

At the first sight of the cop car and the Autobot symbol on his chest, he knew that was his one way ticket out of the hell Primus suggested him in. If he could've gotten the cop in a private room together he could've told him his situation and have those hell bringers get what's coming to them. Or so he hoped would've happened…

Tears began falling down his face. Why did this have to happen to him? Why did his creators abandon him to these monsters? Why-

The silver mech yelped as he was suddenly pulled by the arm toward a dark corridor of the club. He cried out and flailed wildly, throwing kicks and punches so fast and so hard he felt his circuits overheating. He took some pride in himself when he sot some hits in, hearing the mechs around him groan and cry in pain.

"Hey now, kid, we just trying to help is all!" one cried out, shielding his face from any blows. The silver mech froze…Who's voice was that? He never heard this mech before. He finally calmed down enough to look up to see two mechs…It was the cop car he tried to seduce earlier and another Autobot!

The cop car sighed in relief as he reached toward the battered mech only for him to shy away.

"It's alright…We're not here to hurt you…We're here to help." he assured, pulling the mech close and looking over his injuries. "You need medical attention for those wounds…" he murmured, wincing at the thought of having his own wings torn like the younger had. The young mech opened his mouth to say something only to freeze in fear with optics wide. Prowl seemed perplexed by this until the silver mech was forcibly pulled form his grasp into another…

The young mech whimpered as a black arm wrapped tightly around his neck and a blaster pressed harshly against his helm. He struggled for breath and clawed at the opposing limb. The mech holding him chuckled and tightened his grip, drawing a gasp of pain.

"Thought you could away from me?" he sneered, shaking the mech a little, all the while ignoring the two blasters that were pointing his way. He grinned and whistled, two large bots running him with their own weapons drawn. "Get 'em, boys!" he ordered, nodding at the two officials. "I got some shit to take care of first…" His minions nodded and charged at the officers while he pulled his struggling slave further down the corridor.

"No! let me go! HELP! HELP!" the silver mech screamed, kicking wildly. His master barked in laughter.

"Help! Help! I'm a dirty little bitch, pleas help me!" he mocked, kicking a door open and throwing his slave through. The silver mech gasped for breath and immediately got to his pedes in attempt to run only to be struck in the back and landing on the floor once more. He groaned, coughing up some Energon. A hand clenched on his shoulder and flung him around on his back. He whimpered as he looked up into the sadistic face of his slaver. The sick mech chuckled lowly.

"If you think the beatings I gave you before were harsh then you ain't seen nothing yet…" he sneered and descended on his prey…

--

Prowl ducked down, barely missing the blade of his opponent. The blade cut through the wall above his helm, leaving a deep slash.

"C'mere!" the red mech growled, throwing himself of the cop bot, causing them both to crash to the floor.

"Jazz! A little help here?!" Prowl yelled, struggling against the other to keep the blade for slicing his helm open. His partner in arms growled, jumping out of the way of several rounds from his green opponent.

"I'm a little preoccupied myself if you catch my drift!" Jazz called back, pulling out his own blaster and shooting the mech. The green mech grinned, activating a built in shield in his arm and successfully blowing off the lasers. Jazz cursed loudly, throwing his blaster at the mech. The other laughed and dodge it, turning back to the black and white officer to be met by a fist knocking his square in the jaw, sending him flying and crashing into and through the wall. The unconscious mech landed in the middle of the club room to gasps and shrieks. His red companion soon joined him as he was flung through the newly made hole in the wall and landed on top of him. The two groaned before slumping into the state off knock out.

Prowl and Jazz walked cautiously through the hole with their weapons drawn, ignoring the terrified murmurs and whispers from their 'spectators'. prowl sighed, looking down at the two mechs on the floor before kneeling down and pulling out two pairs of stasis cuffs. A loud screech of pain rang through the club, startling its occupants into cries of their own. Prowl froze in realization.

"The mech…" he murmured, looking at his hands. How could he have forgotten about him?

"What?" Jazz asked, placing a hand on his partner's shoulder. Prowl immediately shoved it off and got to his feet.

"The mech they were after!" he yelled, pushing past him and running in the direction he saw the black mech take the young mech. "Jazz," he called back. "Finish things here and join me at the back of the club!"

Prowl dashed down the dark hallway, following the cries to their source. The cries got louder and louder, more pained-filled then the last. He then came to a screeching halt and kicked open the door and ran out the club and looked around. The alleyway was dark and cold and more importantly…empty.

"What the-" he was cut short to a blaster fire connecting with his back. He cried out in pain and stumbled forward, pulling out his own blaster and swirling around. A punch to the face greeted him, causing him to fall to the floor and drop his blaster. The mech above him grinned, placing his pede on the falling officer's chest and pressing down, drawing a small grunt. He then leaned forward with a grin.

"So what did ya think was going to happen tonight, 'Bot?" the golden-optic mech leered, fingers tapping on his blaster. "Did ya think you were gonna stop me? Cuff me up and throw away the key? Be the big hero by saving the little bitch that cant do shit, not even be a good whore? Hmm?"

Prowl growled, optics dimming in anger. "Where's the kid?"

The mech grinned, low chuckles growing into laughter as he threw his head back and cackled like Unicron himself. "My little slave? Why? You looking for a one nighter? Cuz' after the beating I gave him I'm sure he'd love to oblige to me…"

"You evil son of a glitch…" Prowl sneered, trying to rise up only for the mech to press his pede harder into him as he leaned down and retrieved the officer's weapon. He smirked wickedly and pointed it dead aim in between Prowl's optics.

"Thought the killing would be more enjoyable if you died at the hand of your own weapon…" With that, the mech powered up the blaster, readying for the end of the 'Bot. "Bye, bye, copper…" He pulled the trigger and Prowl offlined his optics, waiting for the heat and darkness of death. But it never came… He onlined his optics and looked up. A part of him wished he never did.

There standing above him was the battered, bloody silver and red mech, standing in between the black mech and him with a deep smoking whole in his chest. He took the blast for him. The golden optic mech sneered, back handing the unmoving mech, launching him to a heap on the floor.

"Got what you deserve, you little-" a punch square to the jaw shut him up. He looked up only to be met by another punch and another and another. A barrage of viscous punches greeted him even as he laid helpless on the floor with the officer above him. Prowl roared in anger, attacking the mech with blind fury that he didn't know he carried.

After a few moments into the attack, Prowl felt several pair of hands grab him and force him off of the slave master. "No! no! no! no! let me go! Let me get that son of a glitch!" he roared struggling against his 'restraints'. he felt a pair of hands latch onto his shoulders and hold him forcibly down. The mech looked up into the soft yet hard look of his commander.

"Prowl," his commander said, patting his shoulder softly. "It's over…"

Prowl shook his head. "Optimus he-"

Optimus hushed him with a hand. "I know what happened…"

Prowl nodded and looked over his commanding officer's shoulder to see Jazz placing the unconscious form of the mech into the back of the medical officer, Ratchet.

"Ratchet has stabilized him for the time being…The blast didn't hit his spark but hit vital circuitry all the same…" Prime informed him, pulling Prowl out of his thoughts. "We're taking him back to base to be tended to." Prime saw his second-in-commands worried face. "He'll survive…Ratchet will make sure of it…" he assured him.

"And after he heals?" Prowl asked, looking up at his masked commander.

"What happens next is up to him…" Optimus answered, he and the SIC transforming and following the medic and the TIC back to base.

--

**_A/N: kinda OOC of Prowl but everyone has there moments...Read and Review please!!! and if you're gonna fav or put on alert please review first! thank u!_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: srry for the delay...i fell really bad for making all of you wait...i hope this chapter makes up for it! Enjoy! =3**_

_Systems stabilizing…_

_Recovery mode activated…_

_CPU operational…_

And pain apparent. The red and silver mech groaned, arching his back as pain engulfed all of his circuitry. His optics flickered, attempting to make out the various shapes and shadows surrounding him.

"Move away…Give him some space…" a red and white mech growled, approaching toward the berth and shooing a mech that lingered near the youngling. The mech grumbled and sniffed angrily but obeyed orders and kept at a respectable distance. The mech gave a quick glare at him before focusing at the objective at hand. He looked down, watching as the younger's optics finally onlined.

The gray mech jumped slightly at the sight of another so closely to him. Several possibilities of his current situation flooded in his CPU. Was he back with his 'master', mere moments away from yet another punishment? Was he sold to a new slave industry as his master so eagerly put it? Was he left to die…was he dead?

The youngling groaned, his processor ached.

"Don't stress yourself out there, kid…You're in good hands…" a familiar voice rang in his audios, causing him to look up. The mech above him was white and black, a blue visor over his optics. The mech grinned and slowly presented his hand in a obvious handshake. "Name's Jazz…Third in command of the Autobots."

The mechling flinched slightly in fear before calming down when the memories flooded back. Jazz…he was the bot that was accompanying the other black and mech that was trying to help him. The mech…he fought with his master…was he…

"Dead…" the mech murmured wordily and jumped when a hand settled on his shoulder. He looked up to see the previous red and white mech before him with a confused look.

"What was that, kid?" he asked, removing his hand from his shoulder and running several scans over the younglings body. He then looked up suddenly with a gentle yet exhausted look. "By the way, I'm Ratchet, the Autobots Chief Medical Officer…" The mechling shuffled in uneasiness before looking up at the medic with fearful optics. The mech sighed softly, once again placing a gentle hand on the nervous mechling. "You're safe, youngin'…No on can hurt ya here…You're in full-time protection…Understand?"

The gray mech nodded so quickly, Ratchet wondered if he would end up popping his helm right off of his shoulders. The medic rolled his optics and put his hand on the younglings helm, stopping his bobble-headed movement. The mech froze under his hand as if he had just been electrocuted. Again, another sigh left the CMO.

'This mech must have gone through the pits and back to be this shaky…poor kid…' the medbot thought bitterly as he stood to his full height and walked toward the medbay doors. He glanced back at the TIC who returned to his spot beside the younger mech. "The kids' fixed up as good as new…I'm going to report to Prime…" he began walking through the doors when he turned back with a tired glare. "And Jazz…"

"Yes, ma lovely CMO?" the visored mech leered.

"If anything is wrong with the kid when I come back…Ima turn you into a chair give you as a gift to the decepticons…Do I make myself clear?"

Jazz chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Of course, Docbot…I get it…"

The medic grunted before walking out of the medbay. The TIC made a soft 'phewing' noise as he sat down in a chair near the berth the younger mech was still sitting on.

"Mech's scares the slag outta me…" the mech the shrugged suddenly and grinned. "But ya gotta love him!" he then spun around on his chair until he was facing the youngling, who looked back at him with a sense of weariness. "Sooo…Gotta name?" Jazz asked, leaning forward and invading the mech's personal space.

The youngling leaned back before answering softly, "Bluestreak…"

The other mech seemed taken aback. "Really?" he asked with a tilt of his head. Bluestreak suddenly glared at him, causing the mech to chuckle and put his hands up in defense. "Nah, nah, mech, I didn't mean it as a insult it's just that-"

"I don't have any blue on me…right?" the younger huffed, crossing his arms over his chestplates.

The TIC shrugged. "Well yah…" Another glare was sent his way. "Ah, come on youngling, can ya blame a mech?" he sighed, a goofy grin on his face.

Bluestreak couldn't help it, he burst out laughing. But as quick as it came, it quickly left, causing the young mech to shrink in embarrassment, fear and a little bit of wonder. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed, or at least sincerely.

Jazz smiled. "There we go…" the young mech looked at him curiously. "Laughing helps sooth the soul and release tension and bad feelings, mechling…A good laugh now and then will help ya move on with your past…predicament." he explained, excusing himself as he got up and took a call on his communicator. The youngling sat back on the berth, a strange sense of peace engulfing him. Though, he still wondered. Was he truly safe? What was in his future…was it a better one? Or worse.

Bluestreak looked up as the TIC kneeled next to him with his signature grin. "A certain mech wants to see how you been doing…" he said, gesturing to the door as the medbay doors opened, letting in a certain black and white mech. The youngling felt his spark stall for a moment as the other officer approached them in all his authorative glory.

"Jazz…" the mech known as Prowl murmured with a nod towards him. Jazz smirk was so big a Cheshire cat would be jealous.

"Hiya, Prowler? Here I thought all those reports of yours finally ate ya up!"

Prowl rolled his optics, sending his friend a tired glare. He then gave him a devious glare. "Speaking of reports, Jazz…Where are the ones you owe me for say, several orns?"

Jazz chuckled nervously, getting up and gesturing wildly toward the door. "Imma go now…"

Prowl nodded. "You do that…"

Jazz continuing chuckling before darting out the doors. Prowl shook his head with a small grin before looking back at the younger mech, you seemed to have been staring at him for quite awhile. Bluestreak blushed when Prowl quirked an optic ridge at him. He had been staring and ogling at the officer without even realizing it. The older mech brushed it off for a moment and took the seat his partner had been formally sitting in. he gave out his hand for the youngling and had to hold in a chuckle when the mech took a little too eagerly. He opened his mouth to give out his designation when the gray and red mech blurted out-

"Thank you for saving me I'm really grateful if it wasn't for you id still be in that horrible place with that monster in that awful place you're a real hero!"

Prowl stared incredibly at the mech before him as he processed the short tirade in his CPU. Once he had it all down, he chuckled and shook his head, taking Bluestreak's hands in his own. The young mech flushed furiously.

"If anyone needs to be thankful its me…if it wasn't for you I wouldn't be functioning right now…" Prowl confessed with a small smile. "Oh, also my name is Prowl, second in command of the Autobots. What's-"

"Bluestreak!" he blurted, shrinking in embarrassment and looking towards the floor when the older chuckled. He looked up when Prowl placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Welcome to our base, Bluestreak…" Prowl said gently yet full of authority and devotion. The mechling felt the weight of his past lift off him slightly.

"Thank you…"

_**A/N: Read and Review Please...i hope this chapter was ok...i'll try to update as soon as i can...love all of you! =]**_


	4. Chapter 4

**_A/N: Longtime no read n write my friends! Srry i havent been uploading anything...i just had huge writers block and quite frankly i havent wrote anything in so loong i believe i forgot how to write stories all together =_=;_**

**_anyways i hope this makes up for it and yess im sorry for it being to short...i think if i would've wrote more for this it would have came out suckier than it is...But thatz for you lovelies to decide! (hopefully its good haha)_**

**_on with the story! Enjoy ^.^_**

Ratchet sighed, grabbing a handful of tools and placing them into a sink, switching warm water and slowly rinsing them off. Bluestreak fidgeted nervously on the berth behind him, blue optics darting from place to place. The medic had ordered him to stay another week in the medbay so he could run full diagnostic checks and other scans on the mechling. They were tedious and very bothersome to both medic and patient but very necessary. Now all the younger had to do was wait for the 'all clear.'

With a flick of a switch, Ratchet turned off the sink, wiping his hands dry and finally turning to his patient. He grunted in amusement at the mechling, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against a nearby wall.

"You're all good, kid…" the CMO started, arching an optic ridge when the other froze. "Now all we need to do is figure out what we're gonna do with ya…" he mumbled, picking up a few datapads and going through them as he approached the gray mech and sat on a chair next to the berth the mech was occupying. Bluestreak tensed up more.

"What do you mean 'what you're gonna do with me'?" the gray Praxian gulped, wings drooping. Ratchet looked up with an exhausted look, hours of work finally catching up to the old mech. His blue optics fell on Bluestreak's chestplate in contemplation. He pictured a bright red, freshly painted Autobot insignia upon the armor, presented with all its glory and honor; promising freedom to all sentient beings and rivaling that of their enemies.

He sighed, tearing his optics away from the gray metal, processor continuing to buzz in thought.

'After everything he has been through…Is it truly right of me to ask him to join us in this war?' the red and white grump thought, servo coming up to gently rub his chevron as he continued to gently stare at the mechling before him. Deep down he knew that even the youngest and naive of mechs and femmes had promising futures. Everyone does…even, hardly admitted, the Decepticons. But that's not what truly concerned him.

What did was the fact of asking a mech with a broken past to engage in a job which just might push him enough on the edge that he'll fall into a mental darkness of hell.

True, many on and coming into this team had the same or even worse past dilemmas…But it didn't make it any easier for the healer to watch them not only battle their enemies but also battle themselves in an attempt to stay sane. But then…are any of us truly '**sane**?'

Ratchet shook his head of such questions. 'No time to be a philosophical freak right now, Ratch…Do it on your own time…' he chided himself, bringing him back to the matter at hand. Red and white looked up, noticing Bluestreak seemed to be off in his own world as well. He gently placed a hand on his shoulder, being mindful not to brush up against the fluttering wings. The youngling looked back at the medic, feeling as exhausted as the medic looked.

"Bluestreak…" Ratchet began, choosing his words carefully. "What do you want to do…And…How can I help?"

Bluestreak sat tense in shock. He…he was asking him what _he _wanted? No one ever asked such a question…or at least not directed to him anyways. For once…for once he was holding the cards to his life…not some sick fragger with nothing better to do than torture others.

The younger could practically feel the light bulb in his processor flickering, attempting to signal him to a thought he has had since he first saw Prowl in all his Autobot glory.

Bluestreak heaved a heavy sigh, shuttering his optics close momentarily before opening them and looking at the mech with an uncharacteristic look of pure determination.

"I want to join and help the Autobot cause…"

**_A/N: _**

**_Questions? comments? suggestions? ideas? just some plain and sugarful luvin'? xD_**

**_Read and Review please...I love reading them :3_**


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